The Liars
by Cerulean Pen
Summary: Someone very close to Zack has died, and a worried Carrie brings him into therapy to help him...a random one-shot, not very good, just read and review...


The Liars

Summary: Someone very close to Zack has died, but will it take the help of therapy to get him back on track?

English Angst Rated: T Chapters:1 Words:1,119 Zack M. & Cody M. A

I'm not Zack Martin anymore.

I can't be, half of me is gone for good. I can't feel, I'm too numb. Nothing can go the way it should, life is just a bottomless pit of despair, waiting for you.

_"Sorry Zack, you're just so depressed, it's hard to be around you," Max had said, slamming her locker door, though she looked apologetic. When she left, another part of me left._

_"Sorry Zack, but Maddie just left. She and her family are moving up to Antarctica for good, Nia is taking over the candy counter," Mr. Mosby told me, eyes not looking up from the room form he was filling out._

_"Sorry Zack, we're best buds, but this thing has gotten out of control. Come back happy, or don't come back at all," Bob told me, rather harshly._

Sorry Zack. They were all sorry. For what, what did they do to let me live like this, numb to everything that passed by. I don't count the days that go by, I don't count the minutes that tick by, I don't count the sympathetic looks like are given to me. Why do anything anymore, who cares who I am?

Wallowing in angst had deteriorated my health piece by piece, which is why I was surprised when my single mother sent me to a therapist. Why would I tell a stranger about all the pain I had endured?

But, when she took me into the pure white office, promising it wouldn't be bad, I could only keep quiet, feeling too drained to argue with her.

My therapist was a young lady, wearing a long white coat. Her honey blond hair was pinned back in a bun, bright blue eyes almost eager to tackle my problem. She asked me to lay down in the long soft chair, even offered me a peppermint. I excepted it, just to be nice. The taste had gone away, leaving every food I ate to be a drab blob in my mouth.

"Call me Heather," she had said, marking down things on her clipboard. Her smile was long and white, not fake, natural sweetness reigning within her.

"All right," I had replied dully, not wanting to have a long discussion yet. Talking seemed like too much effort.

"Now, I see that you have experienced a rather traumatic death of someone very close to you," Heather began, keeping her eyes on me. Her voice was melodious, breaking through the wall in my inner ear, the one that deciphered the feeling in someone's voice.

"Yes, I did," I sigh quietly, knowing that she has no idea what it felt like.

Heather reaches out to me, stroking my arm. Her hands are soft and cool, feeling blissful on my blistering skin. I had showered everyday, not caring about what I did in hygienic purposes. "Now Zack, my very own sister died right before my eyes, if that makes you feel better. Can you tell me what happened?"

I lean back on the soft, velvet chair, sinking into its warmth for a moment, eyes closed. "Yes. It was a Saturday night. I had been out with Bob, we had seen a movie. Mom was singing downstairs. Cody was alone in our hotel suite." I have to stop, something inside of me is finally snapping. Emotions start flying at me with agonizing speed. Tears stream down my face. "I haven't felt anything until now."

Heather gives me a tissue, face sad. "I see, you've been numb from depression since what happened?"

I nod, wiping my eyes, feeling like a big baby. Taking in a long breath, I continue with the story. "I had just walked into the room, all the lights were off. When I turned them on, I saw him on the kitchen floor. He was dying fast, losing blood, chest barely moving. There must've been some kind of accident. I had to sit over him, I had to watch my better half die on the kitchen floor, while I was out having fun. It's my fault."

She uses her cool hand to smooth away my tears. "I don't think it's appropriate to blame this on yourself. You had no idea it happened, thinking it is your fault will sink you deeper into depression. How has your mother been?"

I think back to how she had been after the ordeal. "Well, our divorced father came back for a little bit. They spent a lot of time together. If he was here, he would've said they would get back together. Now, she's doing better then me. I've been unable to feel, while she cried for a long time. Now, she's been turning her attention to me."

Heather nods thoughtfully. It feels nice that someone is actually listening to me. "Zack, I want you to tell me what it feels like right now."

I ponder her question for a moment. "Now, I feel a little less numb. Everything was just _nothing, _I honestly didn't know what was coming or going. He was my twin brother, he was a part of me. He backed me up when I was in trouble, let me copy his homework. I wish I could go back, stop myself from doing all of that to him. Dying so ruthlessly, it wasn't his time."

She gives me another piece of peppermint. "That's very interesting. Please taste this, and tell me if you can name the flavor."

I put it in my mouth, only to find something amazing. No longer is it peppermint, but with a fruity twist to it. "Fruit," I say slowly, "with a little bit of tang to it."

Heather smiles again, to my relief. "Very good Zack, we're really getting somewhere. Now, when you come back to me tomorrow, we're going to work on getting back on track. Do you think you can make it until then?"

"Yeah," I agree, standing up to let her lead me out to the waiting room. Mom is still out there, knitting an afghan. She loves to knit those.

"How was it?" she asks, as we go out to the car. I climb into the passenger's seat.

"Not bad, Heather is really nice," I admit, keeping my eyes locked on the road ahead of me. I haven't felt this good in a long time.

Mom tousles back a lock of my blond hair. "I'm glad this is working out for you. I got really worried, you were just living like life wasn't worth it anymore."

I turn my head to give her a watery smile. "That's okay, I don't want to stop living anymore."

When she's distracted by driving, I look up at the sky. Cody is up there, congratulating me for being so strong. I know then that I love him. I love everyone that has helped me through this. I pull out my phone.

"Who are you calling?" Mom asks, driving through down town Boston.

"Maddie," I answer happily, dialing her number.


End file.
